Deadly Situation
by SeaWonder
Summary: WHD : A "What Happened During" story for the episode Deadly Waters. How did the officers and crew of Seaview survive the submarine lying dead on the bottom of the ocean, with a dwindling air supply and no hope of rescue? This story follows the episode closely, with scenes I'd like to have seen added. And besides, the Captain is always the last one off a sinking boat.


Thanks to my betas for helping me with this story. (You know who you are. :)) And thanks to D. for allowing me to use "Silver Lady" aka Seaview

Deadly Situation

"Harry, wake up. It's time to get up."

Nelson knew that voice, and knew that a response was expected.

"No…please….not just yet," he mumbled. He rolled from his side onto his back. He felt so tired, but couldn't remember why. And why did his head hurt so much? Getting up didn't make sense, he decided; it was just easier to slide back into the darkness.

But the voice was insistent.

"No, Harriman; stay awake. You must get up...now!" The use of his given name plus the inflection on the last word left no room for argument. With a great effort, Nelson dragged his eyes open, expecting to see his father standing over him in his bedroom.

As his field of vision expanded, he found himself staring at a blurred mass of grayness instead. Harry blinked hard, twice, trying to clear his vision, but it had no effect on what he was seeing. _What's that? And where's Father? _Vaguely disoriented, he reached up to touch the grayness with his right hand….and gasped in pain as his fingers made contact with a hard metal surface. He jerked his hand back and stared at the gray surface, trying to make sense of what he was looking at and what had just happened. Fingers still throbbing with pain, he turned his gaze to his hand…and almost wished he hadn't as his vision finally cleared, revealing angry reddened blisters covering the entire palm and fingers of his right hand_. Both hands_, he silently corrected himself as he realized his left hand smarted as well. Bringing both hands up to his face, he stared at them with puzzlement and irritation. _What's going on here? And where the hell am I?_

As his mind searched for answers, something clicked into place.

_Seaview_….he was on _Seaview_. His father's voice hadn't been real, though it had seemed that way. But where was he on the submarine? And what had happened to him? Nelson turned his head to the right….and immediately regretted the action as the pounding in his head intensified. Closing his eyes, he lowered his arms back to the floor and concentrated on taking deep breaths until the pain eased up.

_Okay, let's try that again, only a little slower this time… _Opening his eyes once more, Harry forced himself to relax. After all, there wasn't a structure, piece of equipment or location on his creation that he didn't know intimately; he just had to look for cues. Moving his head in small increments, he spotted a set of two large spiked wheels just above and beyond his head; a further scan of the room revealed a bulkhead to the left. As his thought processes cleared, his conscious mind supplied the information he was looking for;_ I'm in the missile room, lying on the floor beneath the torpedo rack._

But what was he doing here?

_Think, man, think!_ Try as he might, Nelson couldn't recall, with any clarity, the events preceding his return to consciousness. He thought he remembered entering the missile room with a sense of purpose and urgency…Harry clenched his jaw in frustration as the pain in his head increased; there was something that he had meant to do, something very important. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was. _Short term memory loss, accompanied by severe headache…_.the analytical part of his mind supplied_…I must have suffered a concussion somehow_. Had _Seaview_ experienced turbulence, lost her trim and taken him along on a roller coaster ride? That might explain the memory loss and how he had ended up underneath the torpedo rack, if he had knocked himself out and then rolled with the rocking of the boat. But that didn't explain how he had burned his hands…_and badly at that,_ he thought grimly. _I'll never hear the end of this from Will._

One thing was for certain; he wouldn't get any further answers if he remained where he was. So Nelson began to carefully extricate himself from underneath the torpedo rack, sliding his body sideways inch by inch along the smooth surface of the polished floor, until he was in the clear. There was a surprising heaviness in the air, and he realized that the air purification system wasn't working, adding further to his confusion. He slowly rolled over onto his stomach, being careful not to use his hands, and pushed up to his elbows. Holding the position by sheer will, Harry concentrated once again on taking deep breaths, this time to push back the nausea and dizziness that the simple act of rolling over and lifting his head had elicited. Once his head and stomach settled, he slowly moved into a sitting position so he could look around from a different perspective, to try to spark a further return of his memories.

Nothing seemed to be amiss in the missile room, as far as he could tell. He appeared to be alone though and wondered if he should be worried about that. Usually, he could count on Chief Sharkey to be somewhere nearby, _whether I want him to be there or not_, he thought wryly. On the other hand, if there was a crisis on board _Seaview,_ and the lack of circulating air might be an indication of that, the COB would likely be checking the status of each department of the submarine, preparing an inspection report for the executive officer, presuming communications were out. Harry glanced up at the intercom that was tantalizing out of his reach; if he could get up to his feet, he could test communications himself, contact the control room and find out what was going on. But could he use the unit with his badly burned hands? He doubted it.

That thought sparked something in his memory…something about not being to handle valves with his hands…..but valves of what? In frustration and out of habit, he reached up to touch the back of his head ….and gritted his teeth against the added pain of feeling the back of his head with his blistered fingers. There was a definite lump forming there, he decided, but luckily, no bleeding as he pulled his hand back down away from the area of impact and examined his fingers. That confirmed that he had hit his head somehow…_one mystery solved_…Harry thought with grim satisfaction…and then another thought occurred to him. _What if someone hit me instead?_

Suddenly apprehensive, he scanned the room again. This time his gaze landed on the object in the room that was closest to him; the rack of diving equipment. As his eyes raked over it, he noted the empty space on the second shelf, where air tanks would normally be stored, and then his gaze fell to the floor, landing on the large spanner wrench lying there.

With a roaring sound in his ears, memory flooded back. Nelson's eyes widened as the impact of the memories hit, making his brain feel as if it was about to explode.

_The ocean storm overhead as the Seaview ran submerged below…the request to rescue the deep pressure diver from the sunken sub…his worry that his captain would not make it back in time to Seaview with the other diver before the atomic sub's missiles went off… Seaview lying powerless on the ocean floor…his attempt to reach the surface of the ocean in the flying sub, only to fail after preventing the other sub from ramming his beloved submarine…the increasing radiation from the atomic sub, it's deadly energy poisoning the ocean around them…. his frustration as the flying sub wouldn't power up and the guilty relief he felt as Lee Crane emerged from the diver's hatch with the electrode he needed to repair her….his worry over whether Lee would succeed in clearing the flying sub's thrust tubes with the laser….Sharkey's concern and defiance at his plan to use the deep pressure suit himself…. the confrontation in the circuitry room and his use of force to try to make the man see reason….the burning pain in his hands as he lifted the flaming circuitry panel off of the downed crewman…the argument with Kowalski's brother all the way to the missile room and the sudden, exploding pain at the back of his skull as blackness descended…..Stan Kowalski!_

As his memories coalesced, Harry closed his eyes as a sudden bout of nausea assailed him; it felt as though he had taken a punch directly to his stomach. Then the PA went off overhead in the missile room with a burst of static, followed by the voice of _Seaview_'s captain, Commander Lee Crane.

"Now hear this…with the exception of work parties…all hands, lie on the deck. No unnecessary moving or talking."

Somehow, Nelson got to his feet without passing out; he had to get to the control room! He didn't know how much time had passed since Stan Kowalski had rendered him unconscious and presumably tried to make it to the surface in the experimental deep pressure suit…all he knew was that he had to reach the control room and find out what was happening. He took a step in the direction of the entrance of the missile room, and then a thought occurred to him. Veering towards the toolbox on the floor, he stooped to pick up the spanner wrench, gritting his teeth against the surge of pain in his head as he bent over. It hurt like holy hell to hold the heavy tool in his blistered hands, so he cradled the spanner against his chest; at least it would provide him with leverage, if needed, to crack open any hatches on the way to the control room. Then he made his way to the entrance of the missile room, stumbling like a drunken sailor.

VVVVV

The atmosphere in the control room was oppressive following the captain's announcement, and not only due to the dwindling supply of air; word of the admiral's failed attempt to reach the surface had spread throughout the boat like wildfire. With no other solution for saving _Seaview _presenting itself, Lee Crane had ordered all crewmembers (with the exception of those on the work crews) to stop what they were doing and to lie down on the floor to conserve air and their remaining energy. Subsequently, men were sprawled everywhere in the control center of the submarine; on the floor of the communication shack, in the periscope island and in front of the massive computer. Even his executive officer, Chip Morton, sat slumped in one of the chairs at the sonar station, head resting on hands on the back of the chair and his eyes closed in fatigue. Only the captain of the _Seaview_ remained standing, leaning over the papers on the chart table in the control room, trying one last time, and failing, to find a viable solution to the submarine's dire predicament.

Crane knew that their time was almost up. If the admiral's calculations were correct (and when had Admiral Nelson ever been wrong when it came to calculations?) they only had a few minutes of fresh air left. Even now, he could feel lethargy creeping up on him, a side effect of the rise of carbon dioxide in the stagnant air of the control room as the oxygen was depleted.

Almost idly_, Seaview_'s captain leaned down closer to the surface of the table, supporting his upper body on both elbows while using his right hand to trace a circle over and over with a pen on one of the sheets of paper below him, in unconscious imitation of his employer. He knew that he should be focusing on Nelson's notes instead of drawing on them, or making a final announcement to his crew. But his mind was starting to go in circles as well, his thoughts returning over and over to the last time he had seen the admiral; when he and the crew in the control room had watched their employer's demise on the sail camera as Nelson had tried to swim to the surface using Stan Kowalski's experimental pressure suit.

For a few minutes, Lee had held out hope that Nelson had changed his mind and hadn't gone outside the submarine in the suit. But then he hadn't been able to raise the admiral on the intercom and Kowalski's brother had announced over the PA system that he was sending him on his way via the escape hatch. That was when Lee had raced to the missile room to try to stop the older man or at least wish him good luck (or good-bye, if he was being honest with himself,) only to find that the admiral had left the boat already and that Stan Kowalski had vanished as well. Not even a perfunctory search of the missile room had turned up the missing diver, so that Nelson had no one to coach him in the operation of the experimental suit during his perilous ascent, which no doubt contributed directly to his death.

_The Admiral is dead. _Lee still couldn't believe it, even though he had seen Nelson's air tanks explode with his own eyes. One minute, his mentor and friend had been swimming with all his might and determination towards the surface; the next minute he was gone, torn apart in an underwater explosion of compressed air and metal from the over-filled tanks. It had happened so fast and with such painful finality that Nelson's death had felt to Lee as if he had undergone a traumatic amputation; it felt somehow as if he had instantly lost a part of himself, or maybe even a part of his soul. Furthermore, he knew that _Seaview_ had lost a vital component of herself as well. After all, what was the submarine without her creator, Harriman Nelson?

Not that that mattered anymore, Crane thought despondently, since there was no more hope of rescue for _Seaview_ or her crew. He couldn't even bring himself to hate Stan Kowalski for his inaction and cowardice, since the missing diver was in the same predicament as the rest of them. He only hoped that 'his' Kowalski, Jake, could forgive and make amends with his brother before they all perished.

He looked back at Chip Morton then, his executive officer and the closest person in his life that he could equate with a brother, next to the admiral. Lee had missed his chance with Nelson, to tell him how much his friendship had meant to him; he was determined not to miss his chance with Chip. There was so much he wanted to say to the blond haired man and to thank him for…..but not just yet, Lee decided; he needed to marshal his thoughts first and to give the crew his final order. With pen in hand, _Seaview_'s captain turned back to the table and resumed drawing circles as he considered what his last words would be to his men.

As he focused his thoughts, he heard halting footsteps on the spiral staircase leading down to the control room from Officer's Country. It could only be one person, he realized, and so he waited for Will Jamieson, _Seaview_'s CMO, to join him in the control room.

VVVVV

Harry paused at the top of the gray spiral staircase that led down to the nose of _Seaview_, stopping to catch his breath after the arduous exertion of making his way forward to the bow of the submarine. Luckily for him, most of the hatchways were un-dogged and opened; Stan Kowalski had apparently left them that way when he and Harry had gone to the missile room. As for the others, they were few in number and he had managed to open them, albeit painfully, with the spanner wrench.

He chuckled mirthlessly to himself; it was ironic, actually. At one point, Kowalski had tried to physically block the four-star admiral in an attempt to keep him from entering the missile room itself, but Nelson had had enough of the diver's arguments and antics. Driven by determination, anger and a healthy dose of fear, Harry had forcibly pushed past the other man and headed straight for the diving equipment rack, oblivious to the fact that Kowalski had grabbed a spanner wrench from a nearby open tool box and was about to take matters out of the admiral's hands….the same spanner wrench that Harry had used to reach the control room.

Harry had come to the realization that Stan Kowalski had been responsible for placing him under the torpedo rack, although he could see no reason for it…unless Kowalski had wanted to delay being found out. But that made no sense to him either and trying to puzzle it out only made his head hurt more. He really needed to see and speak with Lee…and that meant descending the spiral staircase. With a grimace, he slowly lowered the spanner wrench to the floor and then glanced at his hands; they were swollen more than the last time he checked them and a few of the blisters had broken open and were now draining fluid. Plus the dizziness had returned with a vengeance; Harry wondered if the decreased content of oxygen in the air supply was to blame for that, as well as his fatigue.

Not for the first time, he regretted not including a lift in the designs for _Seaview_ when she was first commissioned, as he contemplated making his way down the narrow, spiral staircase without the full use of his hands and with his head still spinning. But there was no other choice. With extreme caution, Harry slowly descended the steps, leaning against the railing with his upper arms for support, praying that he had made it to the conn in time.

VVVVV

_Seaview_'s captain looked up from the chart table and shifted his gaze to the staircase on his right as a pair of black oxfords and legs clad in familiar khaki pants appeared on the steps. But as the figure descended, he realized the build of the man was wrong for the CMO; the officer coming down the steps was stockier, whereas Jamie was tall and slender. It must be Chief Sharkey then, Lee decided….although he could have sworn that the COB was lying on the floor in the control room, with the rest of the control room crew.

Just then, the upper body of the other man came into view and as the officer stumbled on the next to last step, a shock of thick, reddish-gold hair caught Lee's eyes, the color intensified by the red haze of the emergency lights. He rushed forward in disbelief, to find himself face to face with a dead man.

The shock in his face must have showed, for Admiral Harriman Nelson gave him a quirky, half amused look that Lee had never seen before on the craggy face of his superior officer, before addressing his captain.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Lee."

Lee stared at his friend, stumbling over his reply.

"You…I saw you go up in the suit….I saw the suit explode with you in it!"

Harry shook his head wearily, raising his hand to his forehead and wincing as he pressed his hand to his brow, in an attempt to contain the pain that pulsed in his head.

"No, that wasn't me…that was Stan Kowalski".

Lee echoed the admiral, confusion clearly in his eyes. "Kowalski?"

"Yeah, he…he wouldn't let me go up with these hands." Nelson glanced down briefly at his hands, drawing the other man's gaze to them as well. "He said I couldn't handle the valves."

"You couldn't handle the valves…?" Puzzlement and concern colored Lee's voice as Nelson realized his mistake all too soon, and his captain's protective nature, especially where his admiral's well-being was concerned, abruptly surfaced. "What happened to your hands?"

Before Nelson could stop him, Lee reached out and grasped his right hand firmly, turning it over to expose the palm. The admiral hissed in pain, causing Lee to quickly release his hand, but not before he caught a glimpse of the severe burns to the older man's palm and fingers.

Nelson glared at him angrily, letting his pain show in the expressive blue eyes.

"Sorry, Sir," Lee replied softly, apologetic but not willing to let the subject go. "How did you burn your hands?"

Harry's anger abated at the concern that he saw in his captain's eyes; after all, Lee Crane's protective nature was one of the qualities that made him an excellent submarine captain, and one of the reasons that each and every member of the crew would follow any order that he gave, knowing that he always had their best interest at heart. He sighed, and gave the younger man his own apologetic look in return.

"There was a problem with one of the panels in the circuitry room. It came loose and would have fallen on me ….except that Stan Kowalski pushed me out of way. It landed on him, he went down and it burst into flames. I put it out with a fire extinguisher, but then I had to lift it off of him. Which reminds me; if we manage to get out of this, I want one of the lockers in the circuitry room kept stocked with flame retardant gloves at all times. Agreed?"

Lee responded with a slight grin; even in what were likely to be their last moments of this life, Harriman Nelson's optimistic and problem solving nature was undaunted. Then his grin faded and he gestured at the other man's hand.

"But that wouldn't stop you."

Nelson chuckled softly; his captain knew him only too well. He shook his head and then wished he hadn't, as the pain and dizziness in his head flared up again. "Huh, maybe not…but that spanner wrench that he hit me with certainly did." Harry dropped his head, closed his eyes and reached to massage his neck, but only managed to rub the back of his hand against the side of his head. He swayed slightly and leaned in closer to the staircase railing for support.

Concerned, Crane reached up to grab the admiral by his arm, to steady him, but Nelson waved him off instead. "It's alright, Lee; I'm fine, just fine." Lee raised an eyebrow at the other man's words. How many times had he heard Nelson make that remark in the past, and even uttered those words himself when his condition anything but 'fine', he thought ruefully. But considering their circumstances, he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. Besides, there were still more pressing matters at hand…such as survival. And if they managed to get out of this, he would see to it that the Doc's first patient to be seen topside would be the admiral.

"Sir," Lee began cautiously, "I thought you said that we had only twenty minutes of air left. Don't take this wrong, but…why are we still here? Your calculations are never that far off."

"Hmm...Well, I suppose your order to the crew to lie down and stop talking helped to extend our air supply, although that won't last much longer."

Lee stared hard at the older man. "You heard that order? Admiral, where have you been all this time?"

Harry pursed his lips, trying to think back; his head still hurt and some of his more recent memories were still scattered, to say the least.

"Let's see…I remember waking up in the missile room, and then I found the spanner wrench….Yes, yes, I heard it there…. it must have been in the missile room."

Lee shook his head; had he been that close to finding the other man and not known it? "Sir, you couldn't have been there. I searched for you in the missile room, after Kowalski came over the intercom and said you were getting ready to leave the boat via the emergency hatch. I would have seen you if you were there!"

Nelson snorted "Well, Stan Kowalski made sure that I wouldn't be found easily. When I came to, I found myself staring at the underside of torpedo tube number three. It's a damn good thing I'm not claustrophobic; otherwise, I might not be here!" Nelson's eye shone with grim amusement and something else. "That reminds me again, Lee…we either have to re-write the manual for proper search techniques onboard or I have to redesign the torpedo bay space. If someone can elude a search by hiding under there, it presents a risk to the whole boat and crew." He looked at Lee seriously then. "Maybe we'll have something to thank Stan Kowalski for after all, if we make it out of this mess."

The thought of Stan Kowalski and the exploding air tanks brought Lee back to what he and the others had seen on the sail camera. "Why did he do it, Admiral? What made him change his mind? Self-sacrifice? Panic escape?" He looked to the other officer for answers, answers that that he couldn't find for himself.

Nelson glanced thoughtfully at Lee and then looked away, trying to puzzle that out for himself while answering the captain at the same time. "Well, if his tanks blew up, we'll never know…I…" Harry trailed off and stared into space, remembering his confrontation with Stan Kowalski in the circuitry room, a confrontation that Crane hadn't been present at. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, he had gotten through to the frightened man after all. But Lee was still waiting for his answer. He glanced back at Seaview's captain and continued on.

"I think he was scared, Lee; really scared, and didn't know how to handle it. But I'd like to think that maybe he was trying to make up for it…."

Just then, there was a loud clang from overhead. Unbelieving, Nelson looked up while Crane pivoted back towards the middle of the control room. Behind the captain, both men could see the control room crew beginning to rouse from their stupor.

"Topside hatch." Lee's voice was tight as he looked to the admiral for confirmation.

Nelson's gaze never wavered from the overhead hatch. "We know that sound; it's a diving bell settling into place."

Turning away from the staircase, Lee quickly made his way over to the hatch, aware that the admiral was following him. Both men were oblivious to the stares of the control crew at Nelson's miraculous reappearance, especially Jake Kowalski's, since both were intensely focused on the sounds coming from over head.

Glancing around at his men, Crane spotted one crewman closer to the hatch than any other man. Catching the man's eye, he pointed upwards.

"Crack that hatch, Mitchell."

"Aye, Captain." The crewman scrambled up the ladder and disappeared from view. Moments later, there was the sound of metal scraping against metal as the topside hatch was opened, followed by a blast of cool, fresh air that flowed over the men crowded around the base of the ladder below.

Blue-clad legs immediately descended the ladder and as the crewman jumped the rest of the way and turned, Commander Lee Crane suddenly found him face to face with...

"Kowalski…" Stan Kowalski stood before him, in the flesh, just as the admiral had shown up minutes before.

VVVVV

Harry slipped quietly away from the men that were lining up at the topside hatch to climb up into the diving bell, and headed back towards the bow of the submarine. Even though their rescue from _Seaview_ was at hand, thanks to the heroic actions of Stan Kowalski, they were not in the clear yet, not by a long shot. Nelson knew that by the time the rest of the crew reached the control room and the corridors surrounding it, the oxygen content in the air would be nearly gone. When the diving bell made its return trip, there was a real possibility that there would likely be few, if any, surviving crew members to save.

They had one chance though. If he could jury rig something using replacement parts for the air scrubber system of the flying sub and the spare oxygen tanks they had on board, he might be able to remove some of the carbon dioxide content from the air and flush oxygen into the corridors leading into the control room area and the conn itself, providing enough oxygenated air so that the remaining crewmembers on board could survive long enough for rescue. The problem was, he couldn't use his damaged hands to gather the tools and supplies he needed or to put the parts of the makeshift air purifier together…which meant he needed a spare set of hands to do the actual work.

Just then, someone grabbed him from behind and spun him around, making his head spin again.

"Admiral! Boy, is it good to see you, Sir!" Chief Sharkey beamed at him, released his arms and stepped back, reestablishing naval decorum. "We thought you were lost!"

Despite the dizziness and pain in his head, a genuine smile spread across Nelson's face. "Chief, it's good to see you, too." With the back of his right hand, he gently patted the COB's chest, bracing himself at the same time against the edge of the sonar console for support.

The awkward position in which the other man held his hands, and the pain etched into his face was not lost on Sharkey. "Admiral, are you all right? And your hands ….what happened to you, Sir?"

Nelson sighed deeply. "Chief, it's a long story." He glanced back across the length of the submarine's control room to the base of the topside hatch where his captain, executive officer and the Kowalski brothers stood, watching intently as a crewman climbed into the diving bell and prepared to dog the hatch behind him. "I promise, I'll tell you about it after we get out of our current situation."

Sharkey nodded, not missing the fact that Nelson used the word "after" and not "if." Whatever the story was, it could wait. And besides, there were more important things to discuss with his superior officer. "Sir, where were you headed just now? The Skipper gave orders for all hands to lay forward, and, well, you looked like you were going the other way."

Nelson's smile returned and he gave Sharkey a knowing look. "Well, Francis, there's one more thing that needs to be done before we evacuate, and I'm going to need your help with it." He pointed towards the charting table. "Grab that transceiver and come with me." With that, Harry hurriedly made his way back to the bow staircase, knowing that the COB would follow him without question.

VVVVV

Lee waited until the diving bell cleared the topside hatch before returning to the charting table, with his executive officer and the Kowalski brothers in tow.

Morton was the first to speak up. "What's next, Lee?"

Lee gestured to the radar station on his right. "Chip, I want you and Phil to monitor the radiation from that other submarine closely and let me know immediately if the level nears the critical point."

The XO grinned, for the first time in hours. "You got it, Lee. Phil, you're with me."

Lee watched as Chip and the control room crewman resumed their duty posts, and then turned to the Kowalski brothers who stood on his other side.

"Stan," he began, "how long did the trip take down to _Seaview_ from the rescue ship?"

The diver checked his watch. "I'd say four minutes, Captain, six minutes tops."

Lee nodded. "And we sent eight men up topside. So with a crew of one hundred and twenty five men," the captain did some quick calculations in his head, "it's going to take fifteen trips… or roughly two and a half hours."

He shook his head, unhappy with the figures. "That's too long; we've still got a problem with the air supply. And crewmembers are going to start showing up at the control room any minute." Lee rubbed the side of his face as he pondered the situation.

Jake Kowalski spoke up then, an uncertain look on his face. "Skipper, are you sure about the crew numbers? I mean, didn't we lose some men when the bulkhead collapsed?"

"I didn't forget, Ski," Lee rejoined softly; then his voice hardened. "I don't think the number of men we lost is going make that much difference in the final tally." Lee frowned. "Although that reminds me…I haven't heard from Doc yet."

As if on cue, the intercom sounded. "Sick bay to Captain Crane."

Crane snatched up the mike from the side of the charting table. "Crane here. Doc, I was about to call you."

Will Jamison's voice came back calmly over the intercom. "Guess I beat you to it then, Captain. I wanted to let you know that I'm sending John and Frank up with three injured men. They have respiratory ailments but I've got them on steroids and inhalers; they'll be able to walk but I want them to go up with the next group in the bell."

"Understood, Doc." Lee paused briefly, and then continued in a lower voice. "Jamie, how many men did we lose?"

There was a long pause before Jamieson responded. "Well, I thought we had lost three, but it turns out I wrong."

Lee swallowed hard "You mean we lost more?"

"Not exactly." The CMO replied drily. "I was filling out my final medical log before we vacated Sickbay, but was interrupted by Chief Sharkey."

"Chief Sharkey?" It suddenly occurred to Lee that he hadn't seen the COB since Stan Kowalski had arrived in the rescue ship's diving bell. Then another thought struck him…when was the last time he had seen the admiral?

But Jamieson was still talking, so Lee pulled his attention back to what the doctor was saying.

"…told me about the diving bell and then asked me if there were any extra oxygen tanks in the Sickbay storeroom. When I told him 'yes' and asked him why he wanted to know, he told me had something else to tell me, or better yet, show me."

Lee almost groaned out loud, knowing what was coming. He glanced over at Ski and saw him grinning from ear to ear, a grin he dampened (but only slightly) as the Captain scowled at him. Stan Kowalski caught the looks between the two men, clearly puzzled. He opened his mouth to question his younger brother, but Jake motioned him to silence. "Later, Stan; I'll explain later," he whispered out the side of his mouth, and then turned his attention back to the conversation between the captain and CMO.

Lee wiped sweat from his brow; was it his imagination or was the room getting hotter? He looked around the conn at the extra members of the crew who were beginning to file in.

"Wait a minute, Doc." Lee drew the mike away from his mouth and glanced at both of the men beside him, before addressing the older of the two brothers directly.

"Kowalski, I want you to go to the main corridor outside of the control room and wait for the rest of the men to arrive. Organize them into groups of eight and tell them to lie down on the floor, until they receive further orders from either me or the XO. The men who are here already will wait in the control room until the diving bell returns for the next trip. Oh, and make sure that the injured men from Sickbay are in the first group to go up, along with the medics."

"Aye, aye, Captain." The diver saluted Crane, turned on his heel and exited the control room in the direction of the main corridor.

Lee then turned to Jake Kowalski_, Seaview_'s senior rating.

"Ski, I want you to go to Stores; we should have re-breathers in stock. Take as many of them as you can find and meet up with your brother in the main corridor. Pass them out to the men there and make sure they use them.'' Then, as an after thought, he added, "and make sure that both you and your brother have a re-breather as well."

Kowalski nodded once and turned to leave, but then hesitated and pivoted back to the captain.

"Uh, Skipper…do you want me to bring re-breathers up to the control crew as well?"

Lee thought about it for all of two seconds. "No, we won't need them. But the men in the corridors will."

Kowalski opened his mouth to protest but fell silent as the captain raised his hand, forestalling any argument "Ski, I need you to listen carefully. The control room crew will be fine. You and Stan are going to have to maintain control of the men in the corridors and in order to do that, I need both of you to be alert and on your feet. There's a possibility that some of the men may panic and I need someone there who can keep things calm and orderly. Most of the crew don't know your brother and of those that do...well, let's just say that he hasn't exactly endeared himself to them." _Or to me_, he added silently to himself. He watched as Kowalski absorbed what he had just said and thought he saw acknowledgement in the senior rating's eyes.

Lee continued on. "The crew knows and trusts _you_, Jake." Kowalski stared Crane in surprise, stunned by his captain's uncharacteristic use of his first name. "They'll listen to you and do what you tell them to do. I'm counting on that, and you." He paused then and looked at the senior rating intently, amber eyes willing the other man to do his bidding. "You have your orders, Ski; now carry them out."

Kowalski nodded in affirmation. Crane was right, in everything that he had said. Even though his brother had returned in the diving bell to save the crew, it was human nature to remember the negative more than the positive. Stan was a good person but he had a way of putting his own interests ahead of others, in a way that others didn't appreciate. He also had a tendency to be boastful and confrontational, often at the same time. Jake realized that in their current situation and given his past actions, that wouldn't sit well with his fellow crewmates. Yes, the Skipper was right; if any of them were going to make it off of the boat alive, order would need to be maintained, especially where his older brother was concerned. He would do his best not to let his captain down.

Lee watched in satisfaction as the senior rating abruptly turned and exited the control room in the same direction as his brother. Then he raised the mike back up to his mouth.

"Sorry, Doc…go ahead."

"As I was saying, Sharkey told me he had something to show me...and the next thing I know, a certain four-star admiral is standing in my Sickbay, as large as life. Biggest shock I ever had in _my_ life, Lee," Will added in a quieter tone.

Crane winced. "Jamie, I didn't have time to tell you," he offered apologetically. "I only found out," he checked his watch, "ten minutes ago. And then the diving bell arrived with Ski's brother and…" The captain's voice trailed off helplessly; what else could he say?

A deep chuckle came from the other end of the line. "Don't worry about it, Captain. You've got plenty more to deal with right now, and well, there are worse shocks than that one." Then the CMO muttered into the intercom. "Besides, I should have expected something like that from Nelson; the man has more lives than a ship's cat."

Lee smiled, completely in agreement with the physician's assessment of the admiral's uncanny survival skills. "Did you get a chance to look at him, Doc?" he asked, well aware of Nelson's aversion to medical examinations from the CMO. "He had burns on his hands plus he told me that Stan Kowalski knocked him out with a wrench."

Will snorted. "Yes, I examined him…apparently Sharkey made it a condition of coming in to get the oxygen tanks, bless him. He has a mild concussion, in addition to the burns on his hands. There's nothing to be done about the concussion for now; I gave him something for his headache and told Sharkey to keep a close eye on him. Oh, and I put some salve on his hands, wrapped them in gauze and told him to keep them covered. Then they went on their way with the tanks."

Lee sighed in relief; knowing that the admiral had been seen and taken care of by Jamieson took one less worry off of his mind. Now, he wanted to know where Nelson and Sharkey were and what were they up to.

He was about to ask the CMO if he knew what the pair was planning to do, when all of sudden there was the tell-tale sound of the diving bell re-attaching itself to the topside hatch. "Doc, I've got to go; the diving bell is back. Get yourself up to the conn…and thanks, for everything."

"No thanks are needed, Lee…and don't worry about Nelson and Sharkey. Whatever they're up to, you know it can only be for the benefit of the rest of us. And it just might be the key to us surviving this situation."

"From your mouth to God's ear, Jamie," Lee murmured…and then signed off, as he turned to check on the progress of the next group to escape _Seaview_ in the diving bell.

VVVVV

Nelson and Sharkey stood in the corridor contemplating the collection of oxygen tanks that they had amassed. The admiral had decided which air vent they would work from, based on his extensive knowledge of the submarine's ventilation system. How to get the tanks to the spot had been problematical until Sharkey realized that they could collect the tanks by having crewmembers bring them from their departments as they were making their way forward to the control room. So while the CMO was working on Nelson in Sickbay, Sharkey had immediately contacted the chiefs of the other sections and instructed them to have their men deposit the tanks where the COB and Admiral now stood.

Sharkey shifted his gaze from the portable tanks to the box he held in his hands. After their side trip to Sickbay, the two men had gone to Stores to pick up the rest of the items they needed. The Admiral had been like a kid in a candy store, Sharkey reflected, directing the COB to exactly each piece of equipment he wanted. He assured the Chief that he was keeping the supplies to a minimum, but as the weight of the box grew, so did Sharkey's worry. Now, looking down at all the tools, parts and tubing, Sharkey was hard pressed to see how all the various components were going to come together to form the makeshift air purification unit that the admiral had in mind. It also didn't help that it was going to fall to him to put it together, even with Nelson's guidance. The COB shifted the box nervously and swallowed hard.

Sharkey glanced at the red-haired man beside him. At least Nelson was looking better, after their brief stop at Sickbay. He had lost the lines of pain in his face and the fire was back in his eyes. _Yep_, Sharkey thought, _now that the admiral's back,_ _our odds for getting out of this mess have just gone up. _Then Nelson spoke to him.

"Chief, put the box down there."

As Sharkey complied, Harry stood there, staring at the metal tanks but not really seeing them. In his mind's eye, he was determining how the portable oxygen tanks and various parts they had collected would fit together, to form the machine he envisioned. It was the way his mind worked, for as long as he could remember. He didn't need diagrams or schematics; he somehow always knew what to do.

Nelson glanced up at the overhead vent. The unit had to be small and light enough that Sharkey could lift it up and place it in the vent, but large enough to do what was needed, to decrease the amount of carbon dioxide in the air and supply the control room and main corridors leading to it with oxygenated air. And as more crewmen evacuated the downed submarine, the unit would be even more effective as the demand for oxygen decreased.

He glanced over at Sharkey; the COB was watching him carefully. Harry sighed deeply. He had to admit that he had been irritated and not a little angry when Sharkey had directed him to Sickbay under the guise of picking up the portable oxygen tanks. But it had been exactly what he needed, Nelson acknowledged to himself. His hands were considerably less painful now, thanks to Jamieson's salve and gauze wraps, plus the aspirin had banished most of his headache. Even the dizziness was more manageable, due to the water that the CMO had insisted he drink. And Will had been mercifully quick about it, understanding their need for speed. With his focus and concentration back to its usual efficiency, he knew that he and Sharkey could get the job done, and done quickly.

But did the COB know it, he wondered suddenly, as he caught the hint of panic around Sharkey's eyes.

"Are you all right, Chief?" Nelson asked in an unconscious echo of Sharkey's words to him earlier.

Sharkey shook his head. "I…I don't know about this, Admiral." He gestured at the box and tanks at their feet. "I don't know if I can do this."

Harry was blunt in his reply. "Chief, we don't have a choice; you either do this or every man on board this boat dies."

Sharkey looked back at Nelson with anguish in his eyes. "I know, Sir, but..." He thought frantically; how could he get the admiral to understand what he was feeling? "Sir, it's not…it's not like baking a cake," he finished finally.

Nelson was confused. "Like baking a cake? What's that got to do with it?"

The COB's face flushed deep red. "I mean, Sir, I know how to bake a cake." He threw his hands up in frustration as he tried to explain what he meant. "You have a recipe to follow; you've done it before. You get the ingredients together, you read and follow the directions, put the pan in the oven and bam! The cake is done. You know what to expect!" Sharkey pointed back down at the box and looked askance at his superior officer. "This…. is different."

Nelson had a sudden mental picture of the _Seaview_'s Chief of Boat wearing a housewife's apron over his khaki uniform. If it wasn't for the seriousness of their situation, he would have laughed out loud. And just who had taught the tough-as-nails, Coney Island native how to bake a cake? One thing was for certain; Francis Sharkey never ceased to surprise him. But he understood the COB's apprehension, even if Sharkey thought he didn't, just as he had understood Stan Kowalski's fears earlier. All the other man needed was reassurance of his skills and abilities.

The admiral reached out and placed his hand on Sharkey's shoulder, noting the tenseness of the muscles beneath his palm and fingers. He squeezed slightly, ignoring the twinge of pain the movement elicited.

"You can do this, Francis; I have no doubt about that. I'll talk you through it, and it'll be done in no time. And then we can get the hell out of here," he added with a knowing glint in his eyes.

Sharkey looked into Nelson's eyes, reading the absolute certainty in them…and the complete trust in him. If the admiral believed in him, then all he needed to do was believe in himself. He took a deep breath then and squared his shoulders.

"Aye, Sir. You give the directions, and I'll follow them."

VVVVV

Crane watched as the next group of men made their way up the topside hatch ladder into the diving bell. As the last man disappeared through the hatch, Lee took a moment to wipe his face in the crook of his elbow letting his shirt sleeve absorb most of his sweat. The air was definitely getting more heavy and hotter in the control room, he decided, even though the diving bell released a small amount of cool, fresh air into the conn each time they cracked the hatch.

Lee called over his shoulder to his XO. "Chip, have you heard from Chief Sharkey yet?"

The blond appeared at his side immediately.

"Not a word, Lee."

The submarine shook slightly as the diving bell pulled away from the topside hatch, causing both men to automatically grab onto the edge of the charting table. At that moment, Crane glanced down and realized that one of the transceivers was missing. He had a pretty good idea of who had taken it. Picking up the remaining transceiver, he pulled the antenna out to its fullest length, thumbed it on and spoke into it urgently.

"Crane to Nelson….come in, Admiral."

While he waited for a response, he groused to Chip. "You'd think at least one of them would have called in by now!"

Morton smiled grimly. "Not really; you know how the admiral gets when he's working on something important, and I can't think of anything more important than this. And if Sharkey's assisting him…" The XO shrugged.

"Yeah, well, I wish I knew what they were working on. Doc said they took the spare oxen tanks from Sickbay, and according to Ski, several crewmembers have told him that they were ordered to bring any portable tanks in their departments to Section Eight before laying forward to the control room. Have you felt any difference in the air?"

Chip shook his head and looked over to the air vent grid on the wall. There was no movement, whatsoever, of the filter strips that he could see.

"No, I haven't. But I haven't given up hope yet. After all, this is Admiral Harriman Nelson, the world's greatest, creative genius that we're talking about."

Lee grinned, suddenly feeling better. He was about to respond back when the transceiver crackled in his hand.

"Chief Sharkey to Captain Crane."

Lee thumbed the transceiver on and almost shouted into it. "Chief! Where are you, and is the admiral with you?"

Sharkey's voice sounded shaky over the transceiver. "Skipper, we're in Section Eight, at the main junction of the air ventilation system. We've just finished constructing a miniature air purification unit for the control room corridors and the conn itself."

Lee glanced at Morton, who raised his eyebrows in surprise and mouthed the word 'we?' at him.

Lee raised his eyebrows back at his XO in return, and then remembered that Chip wasn't aware of the admiral's injuries. "Chief, can you put the admiral on?"

"Wait a moment, Sir." Crane heard the sound of voices in the background, one in particular speaking in clipped tones, and then Nelson's voice came over the transceiver, as if from a distance.

"Lee, what's the status of the plan to evacuate the crew?"

"Sir, the diving bell has made five trips so far with forty crewmen evacuated."

"Hmm…and how many more trips have to be made and in what time estimation?"

Lee checked his written figures. "I estimate ten more trips, over a period of one hour and forty minutes at least, possibly as long as two hours."

"How are the men holding up?"

Lee took a deep breath. "I've got the crew in the corridors organized into groups of eight and have passed out re-breathers to them. I've continued the order for all personnel to lie down and to minimize talking while awaiting their turn to ascend in the diving bell. I've put our Kowalski in charge of seeing to it that the men remain calm and in control, along with his brother."

He waited for the question that he knew was coming. "And how about the control room crew?"

"We're getting along fine on the air that the diving bell releases each time it docks."

"Hmm…you sure about that?" The admiral couldn't quite keep the concern out of his voice.

"Yes, Sir."

Lee could almost hear Nelson reviewing the plan and running calculations in his head on the other end of the transceiver. "All right, Lee. Sharkey's about to position the purification unit in the main air vent, and with luck, in ten minutes or so, there should be some oxygenated air reaching the control room and its surrounding corridors. Can the men hold on that long?"

_Seaview_'s Captain looked around at the numerous crewmen in the control room who were sitting or lying listlessly on the floor, and thought about the rest of the men in the corridors.

"We've held on this long, Sir; we can hold on a little while longer. But…" Lee lowered his voice. "Harry, please hurry."

The silence on the other end of the transceiver went on for so long that he thought for a moment that the admiral wouldn't or perhaps couldn't answer him. But then Nelson responded, the deep, distinctive voice sounding almost as tremulous as the Chief's voice had earlier.

"Understood, Lee. Nelson out."

VVVVV

Sharkey backed his way out of the air vent opening carefully, panting heavily. He had sweated and strained to lift the cumbersome machine up to the overhead opening, without dislodging the tubing hanging from it while studiously avoiding looking back at Nelson. Once the makeshift air purification unit was in the shaft, he then had to climb up into the opening to maneuver the machine along the curved surface until it was in the exact position the admiral had specified. By the time he made his way back to the vent opening, his clothes were plastered to his skin and his limbs felt like rubber.

He glanced down to see how far away the floor was and stifled a groan. With a quick push off, he jumped the rest of the way down, landing awkwardly on his feet as his knees buckled beneath him.

Nelson was at his side instantly, steadying the COB as he held an oxygen mask up to the other man's face. "Here, Francis; breathe slowly and deeply."

Sharkey held the mask in place as Nelson guided him back to the corridor wall; then he let himself slide to the floor, grateful for the support from the other man.

Taking slow but greedy breaths, he watched as the admiral slowly straightened up and moved away from him, back to the tank he had been working on. Sharkey frowned as he realized that Nelson wasn't wearing his own oxygen mask.

"Umm, Admiral…don't you think…. that you should be… wearing…"

Nelson cut him off curtly. "Belay that, Chief; I'm…fine."

Sharkey sighed deeply. When the admiral spoke in short, clipped sentences like that, there was no arguing with him. He studied his superior officer covertly. Beads of sweat covered the older man's face and his uniform shirt looked almost as soaked as the COB's. But Sharkey knew better than to question the admiral, especially at a time like this, when all their lives hung in the balance.

He watched in silence as Nelson attempted to attach the other end of the tubing to one of the portable tanks, without much success. Finally, he removed his face mask and held it out to the admiral.

"Here, Sir….let me do that."

Nelson ignored the proffered mask, wiped the sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand and glared at the COB. "You're sure you've got the unit in the right location and position?"

Sharkey let the hand holding the mask drop to the floor, as an exasperated expression crossed his face "Aye, Sir. Exactly where, and how, you told me to."

Nelson nodded. "Good, good…all right then. He cursed mildly under his breath as the gauze on his hands got caught on the piece of tubing he was attempting to attach to the tank. He pulled his hands away in irritation. "Uh…that tubing needs to be attached more securely, Chief; see to it."

"Aye, Sir." Sharkey resisted rolling his eyes and extended the face mask towards Nelson again. The admiral took it from him this time, and the COB waited patiently for his superior officer to move aside before climbing back up to his feet and seeing to the task at hand.

While Sharkey made the last adjustment to the tank, Nelson stepped over to the air vent and checked the tubing hanging from it, for one final inspection. Without thinking, he automatically raised the face mask to his face, taking a few deeps breaths as he studied the apparatus' set up, completely missing the relieved expression on Sharkey's face.

At the last minute, Harry had decided to add a second tank and flow meter, to try to double the unit's capacity. Everything appeared to be in order, as far as he could tell. Running the design through his mind for one last time, he could see no reason for it not to work. Since there was no way to test it formally, he would just have to trust his engineering skills and instincts. There was only one problem though; every time the oxygen tanks ran out, they were going to have to be switched over to new ones…manually. It was a minor issue, however, as far as he was concerned.

Nelson glanced at the palms of his hands and wriggled his fingers experimentally. Will's salve had worked wonders on his blistered hands; the drainage from the blisters had stopped and the pain had diminished to a tolerable level. If he removed the gauze from his hands, there was no reason why he shouldn't be able to manipulate the tubing attachment piece and oxygen tank valves, he reasoned. He turned back to Sharkey. "Is it ready, Chief?"

Sharkey ran a critical eye over his handiwork. Satisfied, he reached for the valve and nodded back at the admiral. "Ready, Sir, whenever you are."

"Wait a minute, Francis." Nelson trudged back over to the tanks, un-wrapping the gauze from his right hand as he moved closer, much to the COB's consternation.

"Uh, Admiral…" Sharkey began.

"Stand down, Chief." Nelson admonished his COB sharply. "I get first shot at it."

"But your hands, Sir…"

"Will be just fine. Besides, the gauze is so wet, it's more of a hindrance than help at this point." Then he added sternly, "That's an order, Chief."

Sharkey bit his lip to clamp down on any further protest and stepped away from the two tanks. "Aye, aye, Sir…it's all yours."

Harry finished un-wrapping both hands, stuffed the gauze in his pockets and then reached for the valve on the first tank.

"Actually, it's all ours," he corrected the Chief with a slight smile. "Remember, you're the one that baked it, Francis," Nelson added, absurdly pleased that he had succeeded in eliciting a blush from the other man. "Now, let's see how it turned out…and if it works."

VVVVV

Shortly after the diving bell departed from _Seaview_ for the sixth time, Lee sensed a difference to the air in the control room that he hadn't noticed before. The change was almost negligible, except that the tightness in his chest had eased off.

Looking up at the screen to the air vent, his eyes widened and he called out hoarsely to his XO.

"Chip, look at the vent!"

Sitting at the sonar console, Morton lifted his head and fixed his gaze on the vent over his head. Sure enough, the filters were rippling slowly, as a current of air flowed through the screen. The blond grinned wearily.

"What did I tell you, Lee? The admiral came through again, in the clutch, as he always does. God, what a baseball player he would have made," Morton intoned solemnly, almost reverently.

Lee laughed softly in agreement. "I never doubted it, Chip." Around him, the crewmen in the control room were also noticing the change in the air, a few of them wiping back tears with relief.

"Nelson to Crane…come in, Lee."

The captain snatched up the transceiver.

"Admiral, its working! The air filters are showing air flowing through them."

As soon as Crane had spoken, Jake Kowalski burst through the hatchway of the control room. "Skipper, we've got air flowing into the corridors through the vents!" The exuberance in the senior rating's voice matched the joyful expression on his face.

Crane smiled widely and turned his attention back to the transceiver in his hand. "Admiral, Ski confirms that we've got air coming into the corridors surrounding the conn as well." His voice filled with admiration, he added, "You did it, Sir. Whatever you did, it worked."

Nelson responded on the other end with a deep chuckle. "Well, you need to thank Chief Sharkey as well. I may have designed it, but he built the damn thing."

"Give him my thanks then, Sir, as well as the thanks of the whole crew."

Nelson's voice sounded distant as if he had turned away from the transceiver. "Consider it done, Captain."

Lee checked his watch. "Admiral, the diving bell will be returning in…about eight minutes. You and Sharkey should lay forward to the control room now."

There was a long pause before Nelson replied. "Yes, well about that…umm…the actual unit runs on batteries but someone's going to have to remain here to switch the oxygen tanks. We've got two running simultaneously on a high flow rate and they'll need to be changed out approximately every fifteen minutes."

As Nelson's statement sank in, Lee felt as though his stomach had just dropped out of him and hit the floor. He glanced at the XO, who had moved up to stand beside him at the charting table. He felt sure that the expression of worry he saw spread over Chip's face matched his own.

Lee slowly raised the transceiver back up to his mouth. "Admiral..." he began uncertainly.

"There wasn't any other way to make the purification unit work, Lee." Nelson's voice was all business, brooking no argument. "But it's all right; I'll remain here and send Sharkey back up to the conn to assist with the crew evacuation. Nelson out."

As Nelson thumbed the transceiver off, Chief Sharkey stared at his superior office in sheer disbelief. He had known, of course, that the oxygen tanks were going to have to be changed several times during the rescue operations of the submarine, but he hadn't expected the admiral to take sole responsibility for the task. Weren't they in this together? And hadn't he told Sharkey that he needed his help to get it done?

"Admiral…Sir… you can't order me to leave, not n…," he broke off in dismay as the admiral turned and stepped up to face him, toe to toe, with Nelson's fierce, blue eyes boring into his own.

"Oh, yes, yes I can, Francis." Nelson pointed to the four silver stars that adorned the collar of his sweat soaked uniform shirt. "These give me the right." His voice grew harsh and unforgiving.

"Or have you forgotten how to follow orders, Chief Sharkey?"

Sharkey swallowed hard. There was no denying that tone of voice, especially when the admiral threw all of his command presence behind it. Nonetheless, he stood his ground. "No, sir; I haven't forgotten," he responded miserably, allowing every emotion he felt to fill his eyes, refusing to break eye contact with the other man. "But...I thought…I thought…."

Harry almost recoiled at the wounded look in his COB's eyes. He knew that Sharkey felt personally responsible for his well-being but didn't he understand the responsibility of an admiral to the men beneath his command? And just when had naval discipline and the traditional respect accorded between the ranks of one officer to another turned into such… extreme loyalty? And what had he done to earn it?

Seeing the hesitation in the other man's eyes, Chief Sharkey pushed on. "Sir, the skipper's got everything under control in the control room; you heard him say so yourself!" He stepped away from Nelson and then and gestured wildly with both hands in the direction of the overhead air vent and the tubing that hung from it. "And what are you going to do if that…that… thing malfunctions?" He swung back towards the admiral. "There's no way that you're going to be able to climb up into the air vent with those hands, let alone fix it." He shook his head emphatically. "No, Sir…I'm not going to the conn. You can kick me off this boat, even court-martial me if you want, but I know where my duty lies; I'm not leaving!" He glared back at Nelson, breathing heavily, hands clenched at his sides, in open defiance of the other man.

Harry shook his head in defeat; he knew when he was beaten. And in all honesty, he felt a certain amount of gratitude, knowing that Sharkey was not only willing but wanting to stay with him. "All right, Chief; you've made your point." He snorted. "You've made several, in fact. I'll rescind my order; you can stay." The admiral rubbed gently at the back of his neck and winced at the pain as well as the memory of why his hand and head still smarted. "Besides, I've already got one court-martial to consider when we get out of this mess; I don't need another one."

Sharkey's eyes widened. "A court-martial, Sir? Who… and why?"

Nelson waved him off. "Just a moment, Chief." He brought the transceiver up to his mouth and thumbed it back on gingerly.

"Nelson to control room…come in, Lee."

"Crane here, Admiral."

"Umm, Lee, Chief Sharkey's staying here with me." He flashed a warning at the COB with his eyes, "that is, unless you need him up there."

"Admiral, everything's under control up here." Was that relief Harry heard in his captain's voice? "I agree with you, Sir. I think he should stay there, with you, instead. Chief Sharkey?"

Wordlessly, Nelson passed the transceiver over to the other man; somehow, he knew what was coming.

"Sharkey here, Captain."

"Chief, I'm ordering you to stay with Admiral Nelson until I say otherwise. Furthermore, I expect the both of you to lay forward to the missile room in exactly…..one hour and fifteen minutes. Is that understood, Chief?"

Sharkey grinned. "Aye, aye, Sir." He risked a glance at Nelson. Not even the look of disapproval on his superior officer's face could dampen his spirits. "Sharkey out."

Suddenly weary, Harry lowered himself to the floor and scooted back until he was leaning against the wall. He looked up at his COB and pointed to the floor beside him, indicating he should sit; after all, they were going to be there for a while. As Sharkey sank to the floor beside him, Nelson snatched up the oxygen mask, took a few breaths from it and then handed it to his companion.

"Remember that "long story" I mentioned, Francis? Well, I'm going to tell it to you now…..and then you can tell me how you learned to bake a cake."

VVVVV

"All right, Pat, I'll pass it on." Ski climbed back down the ladder from the open topside hatch, where Patterson waited inside the diving bell, and quickly made his way over to the bow of _Seaview_ to relay the crewman's message to the captain.

"Skipper, Patterson's received an urgent message from the rescue ship. Their radar is picking up a larger hot spot down here; they think increasing radiation from the atomic sub is causing it. They're advising that we complete the evacuation of _Seaview_ as soon as possible."

Crane stopped his pacing abruptly and raised the transceiver back up to his mouth, for another attempt to contact the admiral and the COB.

"Crane to Admiral Nelson….Crane to Chief Sharkey… someone answer me, damn it!"

As before, there was no response. Lee threw the transceiver on to the chart table in frustration, and resumed his pacing.

"They were supposed to lay forward to the control room ten minutes ago," he muttered darkly under his breath. "Where are they!?"

Coming up to stand beside his younger brother, Stan Kowalski couldn't help but make a comment.

"Maybe there was another bulkhead breach…maybe they're trapped somewhere and can't get out."

Crane halted again, only long enough to throw an undisguised look of disgust at the deep pressure diver. _Didn't the man know anything about submersibles?_

"If there had been a bulkhead breach, an alarm would have gone off…or at the very least, we would have felt the boat shift." Lee resisted an urge to throttle the other man and resumed his pacing instead, as Jake drew his brother aside to deflect him away from the captain's ire.

_Seaview'_s XO moved up to Crane's side and matched him, step for step. "He could be right, you know…not about the bulkhead breach," Morton added hastily as Lee glared at him. "They could have run into trouble on their way up here."

"But they have the transceiver, Chip; they would have called for help!"

The blond sighed. "Not if it got damaged or they somehow lost it." Chip reached out and grabbed his friend's arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Do you want us to go look for them?"

Lee locked his gaze with Morton's, allowing his anguish to show. "There's not enough time left for a search, Chip. If they're not here within the next five minutes, we're going to have to leave without them."

At that instant, a warning alarm went off at the radar station. Both men rushed over to it immediately.

Chip looked up from the radar screen with apprehension. "Lee, the radiation level from that sub is approaching critical fast…if the sub blows while the diving bell is ascending and we're too close…"

"I know," Crane muttered. He turned to the senior rating, dreading what he was about to say but knowing he had no choice.

"Ski, tell Patterson to inform the rescue ship that we'll be evacuating in five more minutes." He smacked his hand into his palm. "Come on, Admiral…we're running out of time…"

"We're here, Lee!" Nelson's voice rang out loudly from the bow of the boat as he made his way carefully down the spiral staircase, with Sharkey following close behind on his heels.

"Admiral!" Lee shouted in relief as Nelson cleared the final step. "I tried to reach you by the transceiver but there was no answer."

"Sorry, Lad… the transceiver lost its power and I realized there were some documents I needed to retrieve from my cabin." Nelson pointed to the folded packet that Sharkey held in his hands.

Crane turned to the COB, eyes flashing but whatever he was going to say was forestalled by Nelson's curt, "Let's go, Lee," as he passed in front of the captain and headed for the topside hatch. Trailing behind the admiral, Sharkey clutched the packet tighter to his chest as if it was a shield he could use against Crane's wrath and looked at his captain apologetically. He simply shrugged his shoulders as if to say, _"I tried, Skipper."_

As they approached the hatch, Crane stole an appraising glance at Nelson. The admiral was definitely moving at a slower than usual pace. And contrary to Doc's statement, there was no gauze covering either of his hands. Crane frowned and thought, _Sharkey's going to have to answer to Doc about that, assuming that we make it to the surface in time_. That thought eased his anger a bit. And then any further thoughts regarding Sharkey and Nelson were curtailed as they reached the ladder at the base of the hatch.

Lee moved to the far side of the ladder, looked up to make sure the opening was clear and then turned to address the others.

"All right; let's get aboard!"

Chief Sharkey didn't need to be told twice. "Aye, Sir." He dove for the ladder and scrambled up it, tossing the admiral's document packet ahead of him as he climbed into the cool darkness of the bell. Once inside, he quickly scooped up the packet and moved to the side to make way for the others.

Lee turned to the two men standing beside him. "Ski, Stan… you're next."

As the Kowalski brothers quickly made their way up the ladder, Lee looked over to the admiral, who was standing there unconsciously clenching and unclenching his hands.

"You're next, Sir," and then he added in a low but firm tone, "The captain's always the last man off the boat, Admiral."

Nelson studied his hands and then eyed the ladder uncertainly. It was one thing to change oxygen tanks and turn a valve on and off, and he had mostly left that up to Sharkey. Hauling himself bodily up a ladder was another matter altogether. But then, he had no choice.

Harry sighed deeply. "Agreed, Lee." He grabbed the second and third rungs with both hands and placed his foot on the bottommost rung. The numbing effect of the CMO's salve had worn off half an hour ago and his palms and fingers felt like they were on fire. With effort and a grunt, he pulled himself up, determined to make it to the top of the ladder. As he reached overhead for the next rung up, an alarm suddenly went off in the control room.

Nelson froze in place, as both Chip and Lee turned their heads automatically in the direction of the main computer system.

"The atomic sub...it's going to blow." Morton announced into the deserted conn, his voice unusually tight.

Nelson looked up into the bell in desperation; they only had minutes or perhaps only seconds to get away from _Seaview_. And both his XO and captain still had to climb up into the diving bell after him. Sweat broke out anew on his face.

The next thing he knew, two pairs of hands reached for him through the hatch opening and grabbed both of his wrists simultaneously. Startled, he looked up into the grim but determined faces of Jake and Stan Kowalski. Working in unison, the two brothers swiftly hauled the older man up the ladder by his arms and deposited him next to Chief Sharkey, who latched onto him protectively.

Lee watched with relief as Nelson abruptly disappeared into the bell. He turned to his XO and lightly tapped him on the back.

"Let's go, Chip."

Like Sharkey, Morton didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled up the ladder and into the diving bell as fast as his legs would carry him, followed by his captain.

As Ski dogged the hatch, Chip turned to Lee and grinned at him. "Bet you just broke the speed record for scaling a ladder."

Lee grinned back at him. "Probably, but I bet I only beat you by a tenth of a second." Then his grin faded. "We're still not out of this yet; we've got to get away before that sub blows." He felt the bell lurch as it pulled away from _Seaview_, and held on tightly to Chip's arm.

As his eyes got used to the dark interior, he searched for the one man he needed to see. In the dim, overhead lights of the diving bell, he could see Nelson standing next to the far port window, rubbing his wrists together while his fiery blue eyes shone like beacons.

The other men in the bell shifted out of his way as Crane made his way over to the admiral.

"Are you all right, Sir?"

"I'm fine, Lee; just fine." Harry took two steps forward, as Lee slipped in behind him. _He's exactly where I always expect him to be,_ Nelson thought with gratitude, as the captain edged closer to the window to look down at _Seaview_ and the other sub below. And then he realized that Sharkey was standing directly in front of him and Morton was beside him. _And both Chip and Francis are also exactly where I expect them to be as well,_ Nelson thought with appreciation. _Face it, Harriman; you're stuck with all three of them…and you wouldn't have it any other way._

On the trail of his thoughts, there was an explosion below them. The diving bell was caught in the turbulence, throwing the men inside hard to the side. The admiral reached out instinctively for Sharkey in front of him as his world momentarily spun; Crane and Morton in turn grabbed onto Nelson and steadied him as well as themselves. For an instant, Harry looked away to check on the other men in the diving bell and as he did so, he found Stan Kowalski staring him, with something intangible in his expression. Then there was a spark of recognition in the other man's eyes and he turned away to seek out his brother.

VVVVV

Lee leaned down to stare out the window of the diving bell. As his eyes scanned the ocean floor, he caught sight of his Silver Lady amid the swirling jetsam of the ocean floor.

Relieved, he straightened up from the window and wiped his face in the crook of his elbow.

"_Seaview_'s still there! Somehow, she made it." He glanced at Nelson who stood staring out the window as well. "But fifty feet lower and _we_ would have had it."

"Uh...well, we're all right now," the admiral replied, still staring out the diving bell window at the depths below. "We'll be on the surface in a matter of minutes." He winced slightly as he lifted his head, the back of his head throbbing as the muscles of his neck tightened.

"Does that mean the _Seaview_ is done for, Sir? Lost?" Sharkey asked with a touch of sadness in his voice, as if he was already mourning the loss of the submarine.

"Nooo…," Nelson drawled, placing his left hand carefully on the COB's shoulder. "Not at all, Chief. We can get a party of divers down there, to start immediate salvage operations."

"For a job like that, Admiral, you're going to need some pretty good men. And I know just the guy to lead them…me." Stan Kowalski's voice sounded out in the confines of the bell.

Lee gritted his teeth and was about to say something when Jake Kowalski spoke up instead. "Come off it, Stan; you're in no shape," he admonished his older brother.

Stan's reply was directed to his brother but his gaze locked and stayed on Nelson, challengingly. "Kid, I never felt better in my life."

Harry considered the other man carefully. While it was true that the deep pressure diver had returned in the bell to save their lives and the lives of the crew, there was still the question of his behavior prior to the rescue. Striking an officer was a serious offence, regardless of the circumstances. And he could feel his captain's dislike of the man practically radiating off of him, not to mention the look of disapproval on the Chief of the Boat's face and the stiffness of his executive officer's posture.

Perhaps this time, Nelson decided, he would seek the opinion of his command crew before choosing which divers would participate in raising _Seaview. _After all, she didn't belong to only him anymore.

"We'll see, Kowalski," he replied softly. "We'll see."


End file.
